


you've got mine, i've got yours

by antivanitas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Consensual Mind Control, Dark Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Trans Keith (Voltron), Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 05:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivanitas/pseuds/antivanitas
Summary: “You don’t care that he’s controlling you?” Shiro asks in disbelief.  “He...he’s using you.”Keith opens his mouth, stutters, before finally deciding what he wants to say.  “I like it.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo.
> 
> title is once again from a yellowcard song that has nothing to do with the content of the fic

Shiro is so fucking starving, but he did it to himself.

Night is falling and he hasn’t had anything to consume in over three days.  He’s fasting on purpose--hunger keeps him strong. It keeps him resilient. And even though he feels the itch of harsh burns in his throat, even though his thought process is occasionally interrupted by images of crimson, he ignores it.  Just like the cold, he pushes hunger towards the back of his mind so he can  _ focus _ .

Three days.  Three days into the Massachusetts wilderness, wandering through the freezing sleet that clings to his cloak but not his bones.  He can feel the cold, but it means nothing, to him. Exhaustion is but a minor nuisance. It’s extremely convenient for a vampire who hunts vampires.

He’s not tracking his usual, anonymous suspects.  Shiro is used to approaching foolish, sloppy killers with trails of bodies leading to their nests.  No--the only reason he knows this one even  _ exists _ is because of bloodlines.  Kuro is the reason he was born as this monster.  Kuro is the reason why Shiro hates himself. A distant, dark relative who passed his vampiric curse down through the veins of generations. 

He’s a slippery fucker.  Shiro has tracked him all across the globe, but he keeps  _ moving _ .  This is the only time he’s ever stayed in place for more than a month, and Shiro is taking full advantage of that.  People in Garrison have told him they’ve seen him around town during periods when Shiro tried to ride out his hunger for days at a time, alone in his apartment.  It wasn’t easy to find a trail.

But, he did.  Now, he sees light filtering through the evergreens.  He breaks the treeline, stumbling onto a pristine white lawn.  In front of him is a mansion, so well-kept and so enormous that Shiro knows he’s found his mark.

It’s time to get to work.

He scouts the building, skirting the edge of the forest.  He sees no sign of movement from within the mansion, and every light is on.  Vampires can see in the dark--are all of these lights really for aesthetics? It’s almost  _ too _ bright.  Shiro has to shield his eyes, and even then, he’s a bit overwhelmed.

Shrio reaches into his side pouch and retrieves his tools.  He slips a thick, black glove over his right hand, and uses that hand to grab a firm hold on his stake.  The wood, blessed by a priest in Indonesia, could burn Shiro’s bare skin. Still, he’s kept it by his side for over a decade.  He knew when he saw it that  _ this _ would be the weapon he’d use to kill his ultimate target.

And, finally, he spots it.  A window, low enough to the ground for Shiro to enter.  It’s cracked the smallest bit, and Shiro has to dig his fingers underneath it until he feels his cuticles tearing.  But, once he has leverage, the window opens with ease.

A stupid mistake, Shiro thinks, smirking.  The wind from the blackened night billows through the open space, and Shiro stands straight, stake at the ready.  He focuses his hearing to its limits--he hears footsteps close by. They’re apprehensive; Kuro wasn’t expecting this.  Shiro quickly flattens himself against the wall, ready to round the corner and stab Kuro through the heart before he can even speak.  This will be quick. Easy. It was foolish of Kuro to stay here for so long.

The footsteps draw closer, more confidently, and Shiro thinks they’re quite  _ small _ .  They don’t even sound like the steps of a grown man.  Shiro’s brow furrows, but he stops his breathing. 

Three feet away.  He can cross three feet.  His heart hammers, and he can’t wait any longer.

This is the moment he’s been chasing for nearly a century.  He has no snarky last words. He’s not concerned with making Kuro suffer, though he deserves it.  The only thing in his mind’s eye, right now, is the gruesome murder scenes Shiro has found in Kuro’s wake.

That’s what allows him to round the corner to strike.

But he stops short.  Kuro doesn’t stand before him.  Shiro allows himself to breathe, and  _ oh _ .  A  _ human _ .  

A human who smells fucking  _ tantalizing _ .

He’s stunning.  The boy is small, but clearly an adult.  He’s wearing a loose tank top that barely covers his chest, and sweatpants that have been messily hemmed.  His skin is goddamn porcelain, flawless, and his eyes are bright with fear. All Shiro wants to do is grab the beautiful black hair brushing his tiny shoulders, pull his head back, and--

He sees it.  The boy’s neck is  _ littered _ with scars.  Bite marks. Everywhere.  Some old, some new, and one of them has just scabbed.  The scent of his blood, sweet and overwhelming, makes Shiro’s head light.  His vision goes dark around the edges. The only thing that interrupts his instincts is the boy’s feather-light, cracked voice.

“Who are you?” he demands, stepping back.  A pause, where Shiro tries to collect his shattered thoughts.  “Tell me!”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Shiro stutters, and God, that’s the case.  He’d never hurt this human. This perfect, gorgeous human who doesn’t even seem  _ real _ .  “Fuck--keep quiet.”

“Why do you look like him?” the boy questions, as if he’s talking to himself.  He’s backing far away, now, too far down the hall for Shiro to reach him.

“I’m not him,” Shiro implores.  The distance between them clears his head--this human is trapped, he realizes. 

He’s a blood bank.

There is a very quick, vital change in Shiro’s plan.

“Listen to me,” Shiro rushes out, still trying to keep his voice down.  “He’s controlling you. We have to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the boy spits.

“He’s feeding from you,” Shiro snaps in a whisper.  “He has you under a spell--I can help you. I don’t hurt humans.  I rescue them.”

The boy narrows his eyes at Shiro’s stake as he snarls, “Doesn’t fucking  _ look _ like it.”

“I’m sorry.” Shiro purses his lips, and reluctantly shoves the stake into his pouch.  The thought of  _ using  _ it on this boy...it causes him to shiver.  “But, I promise. You don’t want to stay here.  Kuro has your mind. It’s called glamour, and he’s making it so you never want to leave.”

The boy stares.  His expression is unreadable.  The longer they stand here, the more they increase the risk of Kuro catching both of them.  The boy’s gaze flicks behind Shiro for half a second, before meeting the vampire’s once more.  Then, he speaks.

“I know.”

There’s a creak behind Shiro, but it’s too late for him to react.  An arm is around his neck, and something hits his pulse point, and everything goes black.

 

\--

 

When he wakes, he’s in a cell.  It’s dark, there are no windows, and Shiro can tell he’s underground.  The bars in front of him are made of wood, and he doesn’t have to touch them to know they’re blessed.  He’s been robbed of his pouch, along with his glove. He curses as he sits, wishing for all the world that vampires didn’t have  _ pulse points _ , like fiction would have the world believe.   

He begins to contemplate how he’s going to get out, but when he stares beyond the cell, he sees the boy.  He’s sitting, with his back against the wall, and his legs crossed. The only light is coming from a lantern by his side.  He’s giving Shiro a curious once-over. His eyes, inquisitive, follow the movements of Shiro’s arm, like he’s trying to calculate whether or not Shiro will become violent.

Shiro doesn’t understand.  He’s lucid. His gaze is bright; it’s not glazed over with a film of glamour.  Yet, he’s here. He’s being  _ used _ .

“What’s your name?” Shiro finds himself asking, his voice raw with thirst.  He forces himself to stop breathing.

“Keith.”  He tilts his head.  Furrows his brows. “Kuro wants to know why you look like him.”

“Why isn’t he down here, asking me that himself?”

Keith bites his lip, and when he releases it, the skin is cherry red.  Shiro clenches his jaw. “He went hunting while we were waiting for you to wake up.”

Shiro nods, slowly.  Good. They’re alone, then.  “I’m Shiro.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Keith reminds him coldly.

“I’m...family,” Shiro tells him.  “A descendant. Vampires from the same bloodline tend to look the same across generations.”

There’s a pause, when Keith looks him up and down, before he scoots closer.  He’s on his knees, now, looking at Shiro like he’s an animal in a cage. “Were you going to kill him?”

Shiro stays silent.  If Keith really is underneath Kuro’s control, the threat against his sire will trigger his need to protect.  The pause, however, tells Keith everything he needs to know.

“He takes care of me,” Keith explains, his voice strained.  “I didn’t have anywhere else, but he...he took me in. As long as I help him, he said he’d give me food and shelter.”

“You can’t leave,” Shiro says.  “You might not be hungry, but you’ll stay here, forever.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Keith snaps.  The anger in his eyes is apparent. “Don’t take this from me.  I don’t  _ have _ anything besides him.  I’m  _ alive _ because of this.”

Keith gestures to his neck.  If Kuro has been feeding from him daily, Keith has been here for  _ years _ .  The thought of being able to taste Keith’s blood that many times has Shiro feeling dizzy.  Just once, and he’d be gone. It’s very, very good that Keith is on the other side of the bars.

“You don’t care that he’s controlling you?” Shiro asks in disbelief.  “He...he’s using you.”

Keith opens his mouth, stutters, before finally deciding what he wants to say.  “I like it.”

A wave of  _ something _ rushes through Shiro--he’s not sure if it’s want, or need, or fear for this boy in front of him.  Part of him is envious that Kuro has something so precious in his possession, but he quickly pushes that thought to the back of his mind.

Keith is about to say something else, but he’s cut off by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.  He quickly pales, knowing he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and Shiro’s dead, reanimated heart skips a beat.  What will Kuro do to punish Keith? Will he hurt him?

Kuro stands at the foot of the stairs.  His eyes glow a bright gold, allowing a side of himself to show that Shiro works so hard to hide, even now.  He cocks his head to the side, curious, before the corner of his lip quirks in an unpredictable smirk.

“Baby,” he says to Keith, “I told you not to come down here.”

“I know.”  Keith fiddles with his hands, avoiding his gaze.  “I was just...h-he says he’s a part of your bloodline.”

Kuro looks between Shiro and Keith, and then he loses that smirk on his face almost immediately.  “Oh, is he? Do you think he’s pretty?”

Keith flushes and shakes his head.  “No. He’s still not you.”

Keith gives Kuro a look of utter admiration, and Shiro finds it to be the oddest thing he’s ever seen.  Normally, those under control seem dead, emotionally. Their eyes become void of emotion, and they do as their told, speaking only rarely.  But, Keith seems to have every single one of his emotions that should have been left behind. And that expression of respect for Kuro is so damn  _ authentic _ .  

Kuro kneels next to Keith, and captures the boy’s chin in his fingers.  When they make eye contact, Shiro feels like an audience member. He’s no longer a part of this conversation--he’s just meant to watch.  

“He thinks  _ you’re _ pretty,” Kuro notes, nodding at Shiro.  “I wonder how many times he’s already thought about taking you for himself.”

Keith clenches his jaw.  “He can’t have me.”

“Damn right.”  

Shiro is forced to watch as Kuro captures Keith’s lips with a kiss, and it’s one that immediately turns hot and filthy.  A hot stone drops into Shiro’s stomach when Kuro bites Keith’s lip, and Keith  _ moans _ , reaching up to grip Kuro’s hair.  In the next moment, Keith is crawling into Kuro’s lap, mewling and rocking his hips.  Blood rushes to Keith’s cheeks, and Shiro has to fight back a groan.

“Get a damn room,” Shiro mutters, averting his eyes.  He doesn’t have to watch this if he doesn’t want to, and he does  _ not _ want to.

“You want to watch him get fucked, don’t you?” Kuro asks, innocently, as if he’s not exposing Keith’s throat by pulling the hair at the base of the human’s neck.  “He takes cock  _ astoundingly  _ well.”

Keith actually breathes out a satisfied laugh, and scrapes his nails down Kuro’s chest.  Without looking, he starts to unbutton Kuro’s shirt. “I could tell he was thinking about that.”

Shiro doesn’t even realize he was still holding his breath, but he remembers quickly when he inhales at Keith’s words.  Because he wants to say that he was absolutely  _ not _ thinking about that--he wasn’t thinking about how Keith would look, sprawled underneath him.  He wasn’t thinking about all those scars that Keith loves so much being caused by  _ his _ fangs.  And, when he breathes, he’s hit with the scent of sex and arousal and Keith’s blood.  It causes his vision to tunnel viciously, and he knows he’s losing grip on his sanity.

How is this damn human so fucking tantalizing?

“You’d take both, wouldn’t you?” Kuro teases, and Keith finally pushes the vampire’s shirt off his arms.  Keith worships Kuro’s body like he’s starving, and he creates a trail with his mouth from Kuro’s collar to his stomach.  “You’d take more than that, actually.”

Keith moans his agreement, nodding as he unbuttons Kuro’s jeans and gets his cock out.  This whole thing is moving so fast, and it’s making Shiro’s head spin. The scent of Keith’s desire has already caused Shiro to get hard, but it gets so much worse when he sees what Keith is capable of.

Keith takes Kuro into his mouth with ease, and Kuro is  _ sizeable _ .  His lips stretch around the vampire’s cock like it’s second nature, and Keith’s eyes flutter shut.  He attempts to start slowly, using his hand to grip what he can’t quite get into his mouth, but Kuro will have none of that.  He keeps eye contact with Shiro as he pushes Keith’s head down, forcing his cock all the way down Keith’s throat.

Kuro groans gutterally, and Keith chokes.  He pulls away, lips shiny and swollen, with half lidded eyes that never leave Kuro’s cock.  Keith looks at it like he’s never seen anything better, and immediately goes in for more.

“He’s good at it, right?” Kuro says to Shiro, who is broken out of his trance, mesmerized by Keith’s actions.  “He takes cock better than any boy I’ve ever met.”

“Fucking take it somewhere else,” Shiro growls with a rough voice.  “I don’t need to see this.”

“I think you do,” Kuro says, his tone suddenly dark and dangerous.  “I think you need to see what you’ve stumbled upon.”

He pulls Keith off of his cock, and commands for his blood bank to undress.  Keith does, and even though he’s not trying to, he somehow makes it look like he’s a professional dancer at a nightclub.  He allows Kuro to manhandle him, until Keith is on his back and rolling his hips into the air, desperate for some kind of friction.

Kuro laughs.  “Look at him. Have you ever seen a whore like this?”

“Fuck me,” Keith begs, and Shiro is physically  _ wrecked _ by his voice.  Kuro takes Keith by his calves and pushes them back to bend his boy in half.  He looks so fucking good, with his body flushed and his knees by his ears. Shiro can only imagine how  _ wet _ he is, and he can’t see from this angle, but he bets Keith is dripping onto the floor.  “I need it.”

“You always do, baby,” Kuro coos, and aligns his cock before sinking inside of Keith.

Shiro can only stare as Keith gets fucked into the floor.  Keith’s eyes roll, and Shiro can just  _ barely _ see how his cunt is accomodating the vampire.  Keith bites his lip and smiles blissfully, reaching between them to rub his clit.  His resulting moan causes Shiro’s fangs to finally show themselves.

Kuro seems to be thinking the same thing.  He finds the perfect angle for Shiro to see it, and yanks Keith’s head back so he can sink his own fangs into the scarred skin of Keith’s neck.  Keith jolts, his muscles tensing, and his mouth is open in a silent scream seconds before a broken cry fills the room.

“He just came,” Kuro relays with a huff of dark laughter.  Crimson blood smears across his chin, and Shiro hears himself growl.  “It doesn’t take much.”

With surprising force, Kuro forces Keith onto his stomach, and drags him up by his hips.  It’s animalistic, the way he pushes into Keith’s cunt, keeping his fingers in a vice grip on Keith’s hair.  Keith doesn’t even bother holding himself up, and he doesn’t try resting on his forearms. He keeps his cheek against the cold cement floor, and his nails scrape at the surface.  

His eyes slip open, and he looks at Shiro.

Shiro  _ knows _ his eyes are now the same vibrant gold as Kuro’s.  He can’t repress his instincts. Droplets of blood roll down Keith’s neck, and a fire crawls up Shiro’s throat.  Keith’s moans, his whimpers, his cries--Shiro wants to cause those. Shiro wants to taste that boy’s blood, feel it on his lips, drink from him until he’s weak and shivering from forced orgasms and--

He reaches out to claw at the bars, and remembers too late that they’re made with blessed wood.  The burn has him hissing, staggering backwards, and the glow fades from his eyes. When he glances up frantically, Kuro is coming, keeping his cock deep inside Keith until all of his come is deep inside his blood bank.

Utterly exhausted, Keith collapses to the floor.  His breathing is labored, and he’s covered in blood, but there’s the smallest hint of a blissful smile on his lips.  He moans, rolling onto his back, and he rubs his stomach like he can feel  _ something _ .  A bulge from Kuro’s come, probably, and Shiro’s vision goes dark around the edges all over again.

Kuro hikes his pants above his hips.  It’s easy for him to lift Keith off the floor, bridal style, leaving his clothes behind in a crumpled heap.  Shiro watches helplessly as come drips from Keith’s cunt to the floor, the cement cooling from where Keith warmed it with his body.

Keith raises his gaze and stares at Shiro with hooded eyes.  There’s something dark in those pupils, something incredibly inviting that Shiro knows Keith is displaying on purpose.

“Sleep well, brother,” Kuro smirks, before he carries a nearly-unconscious Keith up the cellar stairs.

Shiro does not, and cannot, sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro has been awake for several hours, though he’s not sure exactly how many.  It’s dark in the cellar, but his eyes have adjusted to allow him to see relatively well.  There’s not much to look at. Surely, there are other parts of this lower level. The fact that Kuro has a goddamn prison separate from the rest of his home is absurd.

He’s got his eyes closed, and is allowing his mind to rest, when he hears the creak of the door at the top of the stairs.  A shaft of light floods the dim space, and Shiro winces, thankful when the door is closed and the softer, gentle light of the lantern replaces it.

It’s Keith.  Shiro’s breath is torn from his lungs as he desperately wills himself to ignore his instincts.

Keith hesitates before he speaks.  He places the lantern on the cold floor, illuminating him from the ground up, and he looks tantalizing.  His bone structure is sharp, and his expression is intimidating. Shiro shivers.

“Kuro is out getting food for me,” Keith explains.  His voice shatters Shiro’s bones. Christ, he’s fucking starving.  “And, you know. Toothpaste and shit. Stuff he doesn’t need, but I do.”

He walks closer to the bars, and actually  _ smirks _ when Shiro scoots back a foot or two.  It’s not like he can reach Keith, but the idea of sinking his fangs into soft, scarred flesh is enough to have him wanting to cower in fear.  

Keith needs help.  He needs to get out of here.

“He’s using you,” Shiro tells him, as quickly as possible, so he doesn’t use the breath he’s storing in his lungs.  “Keeping you satisfied.”

“What’s the problem with that?” Keith asks, cocking his head to the side.  “I keep him satisfied. Win win.”

Damn right he keeps Kuro fucking satisfied.  The image of Keith getting split open, pushed onto the floor, and fucked within an inch of his life flashes through Shiro’s mind.  He hisses in response, and is forced to take another breath. He groans in pain, assaulted by Keith’s scent.

“He says you’re pathetic,” Keith tells Shiro.  “That you can’t even control yourself. If these bars weren’t here, what would happen?  Would you kill me?”

“I wouldn’t control your mind,” Shiro growls.  “I wouldn’t  _ force _ you into anything.”

“I’m not being forced,” Keith says with more conviction.  “I told you. I like it.”

“You don’t even know what it’s like to get fucked without it,” Shiro spits, looking away from this divine mortal human.

There’s a stagnant pause.

Shiro flinches hard when he hears the creak of the bars.  The cell gate swings open, and Keith steps inside, like he’s never been afraid of death.  He’s purposefully testing Shiro’s strength, and Shiro can’t figure out a damn reason why he would risk himself so readily.  Surely, Kuro never demanded that he should do this.

“Maybe not,” Keith says.  Shiro is staring at the human’s boots, noting the bright red coloring that stripes along the tops.  “Have you ever controlled anyone? Do  _ you _ know what it’s like to fuck without that?”

This kid wants to die.  There’s no other explanation.  Shiro closes his eyes, and tries not to think about Keith’s close proximity.  “I told you I wouldn’t control you.”

He’s not free of guilt.  And, sometimes, it happens accidentally--it’s everyone’s desire to keep their lovers safe from harm.  Glamour can make that easy, dulling any kind of pain that might happen as a byproduct of making love. Shiro can’t exactly say that  _ all _ of his glamour uses have been quite so innocent, but he’s not going to tell Keith that.

Keith’s warmth intensifies, and Shiro thinks he’s imagining it until he feels hands on his thighs.  Shiro jolts, and he feels the soft weight of the human settling into his lap, knees on either side of his hips.  Wandering palms travel up Shiro’s body, before resting on his chest. Shiro leans away, his head to the side, forcing himself to avoid looking at Keith for longer than necessary.

“I could kill you,” he rushes out, holding onto the last bit of his breath as best he can.  “I haven’t--fuck.”

“I know,” Keith purrs.  Shiro can feel his hot breath on the column of his neck, and he knows he’s going to lose it.  “I like knowing that you could. But you won’t. You’d rather fuck me, wouldn’t you?”

Shiro refuses to speak.  He refuses to breathe. He knows that, when he does, it’ll all be over.

“I know you were getting off to us, last night,” Keith confirms.  He rolls his hips, and Shiro hisses, his fingers digging into the concrete.  “You were too busy watching him split me open to notice how hard you were. I know  _ you _ wanted to be the one fucking me.”

Keith’s stripping off his jacket and tossing it to the side, and Shiro feels his grip slipping fast.  The human runs his hands up his own chest, lifting his shirt, giving Shiro a little show. Keith is teasing him, daring him to break his concentration.  It’s working. Little by little, Shiro has been chipped away, and he’s so close to snapping. 

In the end, it’s Keith’s voice that does him in--a tiny little moan, caused by Keith’s fingers ghosting over his own nipples.  It causes Shiro to gasp, Keith’s scent filling his lungs so sharply and strongly, and he’s gone.

Keith yelps as Shiro pushes him back onto the concrete.  And then, as Shiro animalistically tears at the rest of Keith’s clothes, the human actually laughs.  He arches his hips, welcoming Shiro’s touch. He’s clearly  _ loving _ the attention.

It doesn’t make sense.  Keith should only be loyal to Kuro; anyone else shouldn’t be able to attract his attention.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Shiro looks similar, or that he’s very distantly related to Kuro.  Regardless, Shiro doesn’t care. He only cares about getting to Keith as soon as possible.

The second that Keith is naked, Shiro takes a quick moment to appreciate what is laid out before him.  The human is flushed, his hands running over his smooth skin, like he’s determined to satisfy himself whether Shiro likes it or not.  Shiro doesn’t want him to think that he has the  _ right _ to come on his own.

With a clouded mind, he parts Keith’s legs, using a rough grip underneath his thighs to put him on display.  Kuro hadn’t paid much attention to whether or not Keith had been enjoying himself. Shiro, however, makes it his main priority.  He’s going to make this pretty little human come crawling back for more.

Keith is already dripping.  He’s making tiny, anticipatory whimpers that echo off the chamber walls.  Shiro feels them reverberating through his body, and revels in how Keith’s body jerks as he flicks his tongue across Keith’s clit.  Instantly, Shiro is addicted. He was going to tease. He planned on foreplay, and imagined it while he was trapped in this cell. But now that Keith is bared to him, he can’t stop himself.

Shiro’s tongue explores, teasing Keith’s entrance but never quite slipping inside.  He uses his fingers to part the human’s folds, moving at a slightly desperate, heated pace.  Keith isn’t holding back. He rolls his hips into the air, throws his head back, and moans unashamedly.  Shiro regrets the fact that Kuro isn’t home, and isn’t on the other side of the bars, watching them.

Maybe Kuro could learn a thing or two about pleasing your captive.

“Yes, fuck,” Keith groans.  “Fuck, please--inside--”

Shiro can’t say no to a plea like that.  His tongue shoves inside of Keith, and he closes his eyes and moans at how  _ warm _ it is inside of his pretty human.  Keith’s muscles tighten, so fucking tight that Shiro feels like maybe his cock won’t even fit.  Shiro’s mind is blank and one-tracked, surrounded by Keith’s taste and his scent and his blood. He rolls Keith’s swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger.  Keith is throbbing around his tongue, making noises that  _ must _ be audible from Kuro’s location.

“Please, fuck me,” Keith begs, nearly sobbing.  “I’m so--I need you so bad.”

Shiro’s slightly sharpened canines scrape against Keith’s clit, and the human screams.

“You’re so loud,” Shiro tells him, smirking.  He’s surprised at how heated his voice has become, and feels drunk when he pulls away from Keith’s cunt.  “And  _ wet _ .  Look at you.”

Keith whines, and tugs desperately on Shiro’s waistline.  Shiro pushes his pants down, but only to his mid-thighs, because he’s too damn eager to be inside of Keith’s tight heat.  Keith allows his gaze, blown with arousal, to appraise Shiro’s hardened cock.

“You’re bigger than him,” he whispers.  His lips are bitten red and shiny, and his mouth is filthy.

Shiro wants to use his glamour--it’s almost instinct, to subdue his prey before pouncing.  But, as he subconsciously begins to wrap Keith’s mind in a cloud of painless arousal, Keith grips at his biceps.

“Don’t,” he says, and Shiro’s instincts pull back.  “I want to feel it.”

Shiro doesn’t wait, after that.  He slams inside of Keith, sliding into him far too easily.  Keith’s cries echo off the walls, his expression fading into a dumb grin when Shiro bottoms out.  Keith can’t even form sentences--his words consist of broken phrases that are begging for Shiro to go harder, faster, deeper.

“So big,” he gasps.  “God, fuck, you’re so--”

Shiro glances between them, where they’re connected.  Keith is stretched wide around him, and Shiro’s cock is  _ slick _ when he pulls back to thrust forward harder.  It makes a filthy sound, and Keith shivers. All Shiro has to do is brush his thumb across Keith’s clit, and the human is spasming, muscles tight and shoulders taut.

“ _ Fuck _ !” he screams, bucking his hips, chasing the orgasm.  “ _ Shit _ ...come inside me,  _ please _ .”

Shiro is hard and insatiable, but he isn’t that close.  He’s stupefied that Keith is already finished--but, in a few seconds flat, the human shows that he’s not done with Shiro’s cock quite yet.

Keith uses Shiro’s shock to his advantage, shoving him backwards until the vampire’s back is on the floor.  Shiro is inside of Keith the whole time the human is rearranging himself. Keith is soaked, and rocks his hips until Shiro is sheathed even deeper.  Unable to keep himself upright, the human falls forward with his forehead tucked against Shiro’s shoulder.

From this position, Shiro’s breath is hot and rapid against Keith’s pulse point.  He’s reminded of how  _ hard _ Keith came when Kuro bit his neck.  The skin is covered in scars, all caused by one monster looking to keep Keith captive as a personal cock toy.  Shiro yearns to reclaim him. As much as the sane side of him wants to give Keith his independence, the creature inside wants to keep Keith in his bed, always ready and always leaking Shiro’s come from his pretty, tight cunt.

Unable to stop himself, and delirious with hunger, he sinks his fangs into the scarred skin of Keith’s neck.

“ _ Holy fuck _ ,” Keith whimpers.  His body jolts and quivers.  His orgasm is small, overwhelmed by the one prior to it, but it’s mind numbing.  Keith doesn’t need glamour for his thoughts to evaporate, for his eyes to roll back.  “ _ Ple...mm… _ ”

Shiro feeds.  Warm, iron blood floods the back of his throat and coats his tongue.  It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He’s mad with instinct, sucking on the wound, knowing all the while that his prey is coming.  Keith feels the longest, most intense wave of pleasure he’s ever encountered. He bucks his hips uselessly, and only stills when his vision starts to tunnel.

Keith’s blood in combination with his dripping, throbbing cunt is enough to have Shiro spilling deep inside of him, his come pushing against Keith’s cervix and breeding him into submission.  Keith is drooling onto Shiro’s chest, his muscles limp, so far gone that he can barely remember his own name.

They lie there together for a long, long time.

Shiro’s strength is returning.  His vision clears, and he’s sated, gaining back the sanity he lost due to his starvation.  Keith has fallen unconscious, likely due to blood loss, but Shiro is drawn to the steady pounding of Keith’s heartbeat.

By the time Keith wakes, Shiro is starting to realize that he should be panicking.  The bite mark on Keith’s neck is bright red--no longer bleeding, but fresh as all hell.  He’s stolen Kuro’s blood bank, and has marked Keith as his own territory. Keith is  _ his _ , now.

Keith blinks.  The control Kuro once had has faded completely.  His indigo eyes widen with confusion and fear, and he sits upright, only to wince.  He’s clearly sore, and Shiro is still inside of him.

Keith probably hasn’t felt so mentally free in a long time.

“What happened?” the human asks, as though he’s terrified of the answer.

“I broke you out of it,” Shiro says.  He appreciates that it seems as though neither of them want to move.  Their surroundings don’t feel as stone cold and terrifying when they’re connected like this, Shiro thinks.  “My...bite. It snapped you out of his glamour.”

Keith’s brows furrow.  His mind hadn’t been  _ controlled _ , necessarily.  He had plenty of independent thought, and a good part of him probably really wanted to be with Kuro.  He probably convinced himself to believe that Kuro had the best of intentions for him. But, now that the glamour has been shattered, Keith can see the unveiled truth.  His first reaction is to feel the raised scars along his neck.

Shiro gently and slowly raises Keith off his cock.  Keith feels small in his hands, and his human whines when he feels Shiro’s come leak from him.  He looks like he doesn’t know whether he should feel liberated or passed down a line to someone else.

“He’ll kill us if we stay here,” Keith whispers, and when Shiro props himself against the wall, Keith reaches for his shirt and starts to dress.  “He’ll--fuck. He’ll just take control of me again, won’t he?”

Shiro doesn’t hesitate before he answers, “Yes.  He will.”

Keith shivers.  The zipper on his pants is snapped and he does his best to use his shirt to cover the gap.  Shiro wants to feel guilty, but the predator inside him does not. “I didn’t...I don’t want him to do that.”

He’s confused.  He says the words like he can’t believe they’re being spoken.  He is a dazed, vulnerable little human. Shiro feels his entire body being compelled to protect him, especially from Kuro, who will be home at any moment to discover them in this basement.

“Come with me,” Shiro blurts, nodding at the cell gate.  “Get us out of here, and you can come with me.”

“I told you, I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Keith repeats through gritted teeth.  His anxiety is overwhelming, the acrid scent filling the air and tarnishing the lingering iron tang.  “He’s all I have.”

“You have me,” Shiro tells him.  And, fuck, he’s serious. He’s been alone for centuries, hunting his enemies and moving constantly and not  _ once _ has he met a human that made him feel like this.  He’s never met a human who made him devolve into his natural instincts.  “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t control you. But, let me get you out of here.”

Keith’s gaze hardens as he glances at the bars.  The light of the lantern catches his features, and Shiro can’t stop staring.  A beautiful human.  _ His _ beautiful human.

“What do you have to lose?” he whispers.  “You don’t have to be his, anymore.”

Keith gives him a dark look.  “I’d be yours.”

Shiro ignores the way his heart seems to reanimate.  “Not necessarily.”

Keith is silent.  He stands, shakily, still regaining his strength.  With a shaking hand, he reaches for the cell gate. It inches open, and just like that, their captivity has ended.  

Shiro gets to his feet, but they don’t move.  They’re afraid of one another--a vampire, terrified of his own power, and a human, wary to allow his free will to be at risk once again.  Shiro wants to speak, wants to tell Keith that it will be okay, but his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door closing with a bang.

Keith doesn’t look afraid, though.  He smirks. He stands aside, giving Shiro a clear path to freedom.  The challenge is obvious.

“Show me what you got,” Keith tells him.  “And I’m yours.”

The basement door swings open, flooding the cellar with a shaft of light.  The sound of Kuro growling is low but clear, echoing off the stone walls and Shiro’s instincts react with a metaphysical tug.

This is the first time he plans to fight for Keith.  It won’t be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> left open ended uwu

**Author's Note:**

> @ hitchups on twitter, my lads


End file.
